Those of you in the interior design world will undoubtedly say: KELLY, DUH. For those of you who aren’t, Wearstler is to interiors what Zoe is fashion. Ubiquitous for both her maximalist aesthetic and her minimalist frame, what I’ve found most interesting about Wearstler and her work is the dynamic juxtaposition of periods — her pure love for form, the strength of a sphere, as is her wont to say.
That isn’t to say that the work isn’t also, sometimes, visually assaulting. Her passionate outbursts manifest themselves a myriad of ways, but they’re hardly ever quiet, or clean, or simple, and for many of her detractors she is simply too in love with things, objets d’art, superfluous seating, et al. Even her commercial work (of which I’ve seen both the Palm Springs and Santa Monica Viceroys, and the BG restaurant), is incredibly, incredibly bold. No small feat when you can’t fill each and every tabletop with an orgiastic composition of color, texture, and form. Ironically enough, I’ve found these limits to show Wearstler as the consummate master: a richness of space accomplished through finishes, texture interplay, an expert but almost unstudied and most certainly unfussy colorplay, and crisp furnishings that articulate a spirit with a single, sinuous line.
You can thank me sometime after you wipe the drool from your chin.